


The Smoke Before The Flames

by solohux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bottom Armitage Hux, Dragon Kylo Ren, Dragons, M/M, Virgin Sacrifice, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: Armitage Hux is the sacrfice to be made to keep the dragon from burning down his village, but the dragon is not what he expected.





	The Smoke Before The Flames

**Author's Note:**

> this is neither my halloween fic nor the next chapter of Meant To Fall 
> 
> therefore, i am a piece of shit
> 
> not properly proof-read, my eyes are sleepy! but i hope you like this! ❤️
> 
>  
> 
> **warnings: there's no actual character death in this but a lot of mentioning of death and killing so be mindful of your own triggers!**
> 
> and slight spoilery warning, because I've had people complain that they're annoyed--Hux isn't actually a virgin. So it's technically not virgin sacrifice. Sorry.

For the entirety of his life, Armitage has been told that he’ll be of great service to the village one day, though what that _service_ is, he doesn’t get to find out until the eve of his eighteenth birthday.

And when that day comes, a mild night in the autumnal season, Armitage’s father calls him down from his chambers in their small, village hut, takes him into their little library and sits him down by the roaring fire, ruffling his hair.

“Armitage. My son,” Brendol says, stepping towards the book shelves, a lit candle in his hand, gliding it across the spines of the books to find the one he wants. “Tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday, and the day that your duty will be demanded of you.”

“I won’t disappoint you, father,” Armitage says, sitting forwards eagerly in his chair. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Brendol pulls an old and worn book from the shelf and opens it, flicking through until he’s smiling. “For centuries, our village has been under the threat of a terrible dragon.”

Armitage nods. This, he knows. He’s heard terrifying stories from people who’ve lost people to the dragon’s claws or teeth—or _fire_ —and he’s often wondered whether his destiny will be to slay the wretched beast and avenge those who came before him. He’s wanted to shadow the local physician to _learn_ something valuable but a dragon slayer sounds like a better title. He’d take one of the grandest swords from their armoury adorn armour that his grandfather wore in battle and destroy the dragon that dare threaten their humble village. He’d return victorious, of course, and be made chief of the town. Yes, he thinks; he’s destined to rule.

Brendol continues, “Every fifty years, the dragon demands a virgin to be sacrificed in payment of not burning our homes to the ground. The virgin is selected at birth and raised in purity for the day that they shall be tied to the stone altar on the edge of the forest and taken by the dragon. You, my son, are to _be_ that sacrifice.”

_“What?”_

Armitage’s skin prickles with fear, his world shattering. A sacrifice? To a _dragon?_ No, absolutely not. He was preparing himself for the glory of slaying the beast, not being eaten by it!

“It’s been your fate since you were born, boy,” Brendol says, handing Armitage the book where a shoddily-drawn dragon devouring a woman is depicted. “Since your whore mother burdened me with you. The only child to be born in the autumn. You even have dragon fire in your hair.”

“Don’t touch me,” Armitage pushes his father’s hand away from him, tears already in his eyes. “Anything but this, father. _Please_. Don’t do this. Don’t—I don’t want to, please.”

“Hush now, Armitage. This has been your fate since you were but a small, sickly babe. The ones who have come before you were not so afraid, and I will not have _my_ son being so weak in the face of greatness. I have seen braver faces upon the witches I have burned. Do not be so _useless._ ”

 _Greatness._ Armitage wants to scream and cry and throw everything he’s got at his father for allowing such a _despicable_ thing to befall his own child but he merely sits frozen in his chair, letting a single tear fall down his cheek. In just the past few moments, his dreams of becoming a dragon slayer or even _learning_ something than merely becoming a cold and empty executioner like his father.

But none of that matters anymore.

He doesn’t sleep that night, lying awake and imagining what it’s going to feel like, death. Cold, like his father’s hands or hot like the dragon’s breath? Armitage isn’t sure which he’d rather kill him. At least the dragon’s breath wouldn’t be lanced with betrayal.

They come for him the next morning, bearing white clothes and ropes, the local priest in tow accompanied by the most important members of the village, his father among them.

Armitage stands still and empty in the main living chamber of his home, letting himself be stripped of his own clothes to adorn the white trousers—ripped and cropped at the knee—that the village council brought for him. Eyes hollow, Armitage doesn’t move as fingertips roam his torso and adorn symbols across his skin, lines and circles, with a red pigment.

“He is pure?” A man asks, directed at Brendol.

“He is,” Brendol nods. “Despite his handsome looks and hair from the devil himself, I have managed to keep his purity intact. And even with his mother being such a whore!”

Armitage turns his nose up, scowling.

“A truly magnificent job, Brendol,” the priest clasps his hand on Brendol’s shoulder. The pair stand directly in front of Armitage, _bragging._ “I have heard the confessions from a few of our villagers about their secret lusts for your son, so you shall be rewarded for keeping his innocence untainted.”

“Thank you.”

Ropes are secured around Armitage neck and wrists as he’s led out of the house in the morning sunlight, crisp coldness filling the air. It’s his eighteenth birthday; he should be celebrating in the alehouse, thanking his fellow villagers for their celebratory gifts, not being escorted through the streets of his village upon a road of flower petals whilst villagers retreat back into their homes and lock their doors. It isn’t fair, he thinks. _Why him?_

The walk to the stone alter is a long one and Armitage shivers a few times as the brisk wind brushes against his bare skin. He looks to the sky, to the clouds, begging his mother, his guardian angel, to save him from this fate, but he knows the heavens can’t help him now; this is their supposed decision, after all.

A large, square slab of stone mounted high off the ground soon appears on the horizon as they edge closer to the end of their village and the beginning of the dragon’s land, beginning past the first tree in front of the altar.

“On here, boy,” Brendol says, tugging the rope around his son’s neck to make him comply.

Armitage holds his father’s steely gaze for a moment, jaw set, before climbing onto the altar and laying down, finding that the stone is just as cold as it looks. He closes his eyes as his arms and legs are tied down, as though he would even _try_ to escape the fate he’s been bound to since birth. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t be allowed back into the village if he _did_ manage to break free.

He’s the sacrifice that keeps them all safe, the scapegoat who doesn’t get a choice, the victim for the cowards. 

“Armitage Hux,” the priest announces, flicking ash over his body. “Your body and soul is to be offered up as forfeit to the great dragon for sparing of our village. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. In your loss, the village will be able to flourish for another fifty years.”

“Yeah, right,” Armitage mutters under his breath.

“May our gods escort you to your resting place, young one,” the priest places his hand on Armitage’s head and bows his own, as does the accompanying party, before they all turn to walk away.

Brendol says nothing.

“Wait, father!” Armitage opens his eyes slowly, turning his head to try and look at Brendol. “I have something that I must tell you before you leave. Just you.”

“What is it, boy? Make it quick.” He turns back standing beside his doomed son with nothing more than a grimace on his face.

“I…”

“Speak up!” Brendol leans in, taking Armitage’s chin in his fingers.

“I’m no virgin.”

Armitage bites his lips, smirking, though it’s quickly wipes from his face when Brendol slaps his cheek and he tastes blood, left alone with his laughs as the footsteps of the ceremonial party leave him be at the edge of the dragon’s forest, alone on the cold slab.

But Armitage’s laughs die away quickly when he remembers the fate that he’s about to fall victim to. Pulling against the ropes, he finds they’re fastened tight and there’s no way he can just wriggle out of them, already rubbing against the soft skin of his wrists and ankles.

Virgin or not, Armitage knows the dragon will come for him regardless, devour him until there’s nothing but his bones left on the altar. A wasted life, Armitage thinks, laying his head back and closing his eyes, and it’s not fair. He’s been taught to _fight,_ and yet his secret fate has always been to submit.

Armitage watches the sun move in the sky, trying to keep track of how long he’s been here, jolting every time there’s a rustling in the trees in front of his stone slab, but _then_ remembers that he’s expecting a dragon; a beasty reptile from the skies. Another rustling sound seems to edge closer to him but Armitage doesn’t flinch.

“So, you’re the virgin sacrifice?”

Armitage lifts his head as much as he can to see the figure of a man hiding behind one of the trees at the edge of the forest, his dark silhouette hidden by the shadows, but a spark of hope is ignited inside him and all he can suddenly think about it breaking free.

“Yes, yes, unite me, quickly!” Armitage wriggles in his restrains. “Before the dragon comes and eats me!”

“I don’t eat human meat,” the stranger says, voice getting louder as he gets closer.

“Oh, good, you’re not a bloody cannibal then,” Armitage says, too desperate in his attempts to be free. “Untie me! Please!”

The man comes into Armitage’s view and he swears the wind around him gets stronger, taking his breath away with it. Long, dark hair cascades down the sides of the man’s pale face like a frame, keeping Armitage’s focus on his deep eyes and full lips for a moment _too long_ before he lets his gaze slip down to the man’s bare torso that’s strong and filled with scars.

“Do you have a name?” The man asks.

“Uh…” Armitage swallows hard, voice lost to the glorious and handsome glow of the stranger. “Armitage. I’m Armitage Hux.”

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he rolls his shoulders and recomposes himself, shaking his head.

“I am Kylo Ren,” the man says, reaching across Armitage’s body to untie the ropes. “And I am sorry that they’ve hurt you in this way.”

Armitage sits up slowly once Kylo has freed him from his bonds and swings his legs over the side of the altar, startled when Kylo grabs his wrist, pulling it close to his face for inspection. Armitage gasps; Kylo’s fingers are _warm,_ hot, and bring a singe of pain to Armitage’s skin but he watches in amazement as the chafes and small cuts on his wrists from the ropes disappear, as do the identical ones on his other wrists when Kylo touches that too.

“You’re a witch,” Armitage says. “Oh, gods, you’re a witch.”

Kylo looks up, eyes locking with Armitage’s, and he realises _suddenly_ that Kylo isn’t a witch. His dark pupils have become _silts,_ tiny wisps of smoke emerging from his parted lips.

“I’m no witch,” Kylo says, blinking, eyes returning to _normal_. “Come, Armitage Hux. We’ve much to do.”

“What—”

But before he can even finish his question, Armitage is scooped up into Kylo’s arms and they’re leaving the ground behind, ascending into the sky at a brisk speed. Armitage yelps and clings onto Kylo’s shoulders, wrapping his arms around the stranger’s neck for fear of falling, looking down to the forest growing smaller but only for a moment. Armitage gets distracted by the two grand wings that have sprouted from Kylo’s back.

They’re black with sharp, red spikes along their arches, spreading down the scaly-looking wings like veins. They arch wide over Kylo’s body as he flies, gliding effortlessly over the treetops towards the mountains in the near-distance, and towards a ridge halfway up the tallest one.

“Careful,” Kylo says, landing gracefully on the little terrace before the entrance to a cave and sets his passenger down carefully. “We’re high up.”

“This is crazy,” Armitage says. He runs his hands through his hair and peers over the cliffside, gasping when Kylo’s hands grasp his hips to hold him steady.

“Not crazy,” Kylo says, pulling Armitage back. “Just…different.”

Armitage turns and watches as two black horns grow out of the top of Kylo’s head, a blackness creeping up his hands and arms until it looks like they’ve been dipped in a scaly-ink all the way up to his elbows, nails turning into short claws. Pale jewels seem to adorn his face, cascading up his temples and around his forehead and eyes, a light shade of red, like the colour on his wings. A tail grows from his lower back, long, a beautiful gradient of black to red going from the bottom to the sharp, pointed tip of the appendage. Tucking a part of his dark hair behind his ear, Armitage sees that it’s grown a point, tip darkening into black like his scales.

“You’re a dragon,” Armitage gasps as soon as he’s back on the ground, stumbling back, falling on his ass. “You’re _the_ dragon.”

“I’m _that,_ yes,” Kylo says, offering his clawed hand out for Armitage to grab. “But you are wrong to be afraid of me.”

“ _Wrong?”_ Armitage exclaims, taking the _dragon’s_ hand nonetheless. “You’re a beast! You take a sacrifice from my people every fifty years so you don’t _eat_ the rest of us! You monster! You _evil creature!”_

Armitage spits out the words with as much anger as he holds, but his attacking hand intending to slap his captor is easily stopped, warm fingers around his wrist.

“You and your people have misunderstood _my_ people, Armitage Hux.”

“Stop calling me that,” Armitage grunts, pulling his wrist free of Kylo’s hold. “Just ‘Armitage’ or just ‘Hux’.”

“Very well, _Hux,”_ Kylo backs away and stands in the opening to his cave, wings folding behind him but eyes beckoning Armitage forward. “But at least allow me the chance to explain my — my people—actions before you run home and call us murderers.”

The dragon retreats back into the cave, doing nothing to force Armitage in. He’s disappeared into the darkness before Armitage has a chance to question him or demand to be taken back home, but with the rain that’s beginning to fall and the likelihood that he’ll be branded a coward if he returns, he apprehensively takes slow steps towards the mouth of the cave and enters, muttering curses to himself about how dreadful his life has become within the last day.

As the light disappears behinds him as he heads deeper into the cave, Armitage braces himself, expecting himself to be ambushed by the dragon whilst walking in the darkness but a light shines at the end of the tunnel and illuminates Kylo’s silhouette, strong and tall.

“Closer,” Kylo beckons, opening his hand out. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Somehow, _dragon,_ I doubt it,” Armitage replies, taking Kylo’s hand.

He’s led into a bright room, hand raised like he’s royalty being escorted up to his throne, and when he sees the vastness of the _cave,_ he isn’t far off.

A massive mound of gold covers the length of the cave; shining coins, jewelled goblets and glistening swords and shields. Everything sparkles underneath the combined flames of the lit candelabras mounted all the way around the cave walls, tapestries and expensive-looking fabrics hung between them. A large, golden throne even sits on the tall pile of gold, red cushions on its seat. It doesn’t feel like a cave in the slightest, Armitage thinks, it feels like a home.

“My nest,” Kylo says, standing beside Armitage and letting go of his hand. “My hoard. It can be yours too, if you wish.”

“ _If I wish?”_ Armitage scoffs. “I don’t understand what this _is!_ I’m a sacrifice! You’re supposed to be eating me, not showing me your collection of gold!”

“I’m not going to eat you. I’ve told you that,” Kylo says, huffing, blowing smoke from his mouth. “That’s what your kind have _assumed_ we do with the people who are brought to our nests.”

“What _else_ could you beasts possibly do with your captives?”

“They aren’t captives. They’re our mates. Our _willing_ mates.”

“ _Mates?_ No, no, no. That can’t be! You _eat—”_

“Stop saying that!” Kylo roars, voice deepening. “Dragons don’t eat humans. We were _once_ humans before being burned for witchcraft. Our magic is not a choice, it’s a gift, we cannot stop it. We transform into these coarse-skinned beasts when our human forms are burned. Rise from the ashes into something stronger and retreat into the mountains for safety, in fear of what we have become.”

Armitage lowers himself down on the nearby pile of gold, needing to take a seat for a moment to process everything.

“You used to be human, then,” Armitage looks up, staring at Kylo’s beastly body; his wings, his claws, his scaly-looking skin.

“I did,” Kylo replies, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, letting his magic consume him until all traces of anything dragon-like are gone, leaving a man behind in its place, the same man who Armitage first saw in the forest. “I’ve been told that I look like my mother.”

“Was she a dragon too?”

“She was, and my grandfather.”

“Your family don’t have much luck with fire, then.”

Kylo doesn’t find Armitage’s comment amusing, he frowns at him instead of smiling. He lifts his hand and calls forward one of the golden goblets, passing it to Hux.

“We are all witches, my family,” Kylo holds his hand over the cup, removing it and revealing it to be filled with water. Hux takes an eager, thirsty gulp. “My uncle and cousin still live hidden in a faraway village, still human, hiding their gifts like they’re monsters.”

The water tastes so fresh and cold that Armitage gasps when he swallows, he’s never tasted anything so _clean._

“I don’t understand the _mating_ part, though,” Armitage says. “You ask for a virgin sacrifice to satisfy your lusts?”

“A misunderstanding,” Kylo says, sitting down on the gold pule beside Armitage. “My grandfather fell in love with a human, a young woman who chose to leave her village and live with him in his nest once she fell pregnant with his children. She passed away not long after birthing their children and my grandfather, stricken with grief, rampaged through the village and wreaked death and destruction. The villagers presumed it was because the woman he had taken was not a virgin, and took to offering a virgin to the dragon when the anniversary of my grandmother’s death came around. The one they sent was my father for my dragon mother. It became our rule that we would be expected to wait for the _sacrifice_ if we are to find a mate. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Armitage.”

“Oh, gods.”

Armitage buries his head in his hands. _This_ is his fate: a dragon’s broodmare. Is this worse than being eaten? Possibly, he thinks. At least being devoured would be a quick death.

“If you wish to be returned to your village then I shall take you back there immediately,” Kylo says, his body slowly transforming back to his dragon form. “Nothing will be forced upon you, Hux.”

“I’ve already been forced into this,” Armitage says. “I haven’t had a choice from the start.”

“You’re getting a choice now. Stay here, with me and live in complete harmony for the rest of your days among my gold, or return home to your father and your village.”

Kylo opens his hand and offers it to Armitage, palm seemingly glittering in the light of the cave. Armitage looks at Kylo then turns to look at the tunnel that leads back to the outside. He can’t possibly return _home,_ can he? Not without a plausible story of how he escaped _alive—._

_That’s it._

He glances past Kylo for a brief second, making sure that he hadn’t imagined seeing a _sword_ amongst the dragon’s hoard. It sits buried in the gold coins so only its hilt and a portion of its silver blade can be seen, but it’s undoubtedly a weapon, and his way out of here.

Slay the dragon, return victorious and be let back in to the village he calls _home._

“I’ll stay,” Armitage says, slowly taking Kylo’s hand. “I’ll stay with you.”

Kylo smiles, bringing Armitage’s knuckles up to his lips to kiss.

“Thank you,” Kylo says, head bowed. “ _Thank you.”_

Even Kylo’s lips are warm and sends a wave of heat across his skin, though Armitage tries to ignore it, avoiding looking at Kylo’s strong body or his warm eyes.

No getting attached. He’s killing this dragon tonight.

///……\\\\\

Like he’s a king, Armitage is granted anything he wanted by Kylo that night.

He’s given fine clothes to wear, items that Kylo says he’s stolen from towns in the hope that he’ll be able to gift them to his lover one day. And when Armitage mentions mid-evening that he’s hungry and could just eat some fresh fruit, and no sooner has he said it is Kylo dashing out of the cave with his wings spread wide, returning minutes later with a _basket_ of oranges and apples, a peach and a stalk of grapes in there too. He bows in front of Armitage, his pale red jewels on his face glittering as he raises his head to meet Armitage’s gaze.

“Are you satisfied?” Kylo asks, taking one of the apples from the basked and biting hard into it, juice sliding down his chin that he laps up quickly with a swish of his tongue.

Armitage is mesmerised.

“Uh, yes, I’m satisfied.”

“Good. I want you to be happy.”

Kylo continues to eat his apple but Armitage finds himself unable to move, trying to think of a time where his father—or any of his fellow villagers—have considered his happiness. They haven’t, he thinks, yet here he is with a dragon, a _beast,_ and being told that his happiness matters.

Irrelevant, he reminds himself quickly, glancing at the sword again.

For the rest of the evening, Kylo shows Armitage around his nest, talking about how he acquired his gold and showing him his _real_ nest; a messy pile of furs and fabrics in the corner of the cave. His bed, a place where he rests and becomes most vulnerable. A perfect opportunity for the slaughter that Armitage wants him to suffer at his hand.

After eating bread and some vegetable stew for supper—Kylo turns out to be a good cook, a skill he learned from his uncle when he was human, he tells Armitage—the dragon nestles down amongst the pile of furs, spinning around on the spot a few times before he flops down, wings tucked behind him and his tail curled around him.

“I can make another nest for you if you don’t wish to sleep beside me,” Kylo says, looking up to where Armitage stands rigidly beside the bed.

“No. No, it’s alright,” Armitage rolls his shoulders and gently eases himself down onto the soft pelts, lying flat on his back.

He can feel Kylo staring at him, the beast’s tail softly grazing along his leg and Armitage bites his lip, suppressing his arousal.

“Can I kiss you?”

Armitage looks at Kylo with a frown on his face, eyes wide.

“Pardon?”

“Kiss you. It’s what lovers do.”

“Yes,” Armitage replies, already looking at Kylo’s lips. “I suppose it is.”

He isn’t so vile to deny the dragon his last kiss. They meet halfway, lips pushing together softly in a warm kiss. Kylo doesn’t push any further, even when Armitage opens his mouth and _moans_ at the heat that seems to be consuming him. He shouldn’t be feeling so relaxed, he shouldn’t feel like he’s melting underneath Kylo’s lips and craving _more._

“That’s enough,” Armitage says, pushing Kylo away.

“I’m sorry,” Kylo mutters, sparkles overtaking him as he transforms his body to human. “I can stay like this, if you want.”

“Stop asking what _I_ want,” Armitage barks, pulling a large pelt over him and turning over. “We’ve only just met and you’re pretending that care about me already.”

“But I do,” Kylo says, sitting up next to Armitage, form still human. “I’ve been alone here since I was a teen, since I was killed for having magic, with the only comfort being that I’ll one day have a human who puts themselves forward to be my life-mate.”

“Yes, well,” Armitage huffs and closes his eyes. “I didn’t volunteer.”

///……\\\\\

Armitage refuses to sleep. Even after it’s clear that Kylo has fallen asleep because of his heavy breathing and slight snore, Armitage lays awake, a million enigmas running through his mind.

But he can’t delay. He has to get out of here, kill Kylo and go back home with the beasts wings as proof of his slaughter.

Armitage turns to look at the sleeping dragon, seeing him curled in a ball on his side, snuggling one of the red fox pelts close to his chest, _definitely_ lost to the throes of sleep. He even mumbles a few incoherent words as he dreams and Armitage needs no further confirmation that Kylo is sleeping.

He stands quietly, moving slowly, padding with his bare feet over the pile of treasure to where the golden sword sits, waiting to be used against its collector. It’ll be swift, Armitage thinks, pulling the weapon free and disrupting the mound as little as possible. It’s heavy in his hand, _cold,_ but the clean and untouched blade tells him that it’s never seen battle; it’ll mean a sharper stab through Kylo’s heart.

Tip-toeing back to the nest of furs, Hux stands tall above the sleeping dragon, glaring down at him with a coldness in his eyes, as though the daggers in his gaze could do the dirty work for him. The dragon lays on his back, his scarred chest on show, and Hux feels eager to add the deepest scar of them all to the collection.

Teeth gritted, scowling, _growling,_ Armitage is ready to become the dragon slayer he’s dreamed of being since he knew he was destined to a better fate. Everything seemingly moves in slow motion. Hands gripped around the hilt of the sword, he raises it, poising the blade high above Kylo’s chest to get the strength he needs to bury it deep inside him, ensuring it _kills_ him.

“Please,” Kylo murmurs, moaning quietly, still sleeping but becoming restless as he tosses his head from one side to the other. “Don’t do this, don’t…”

Armitage falters, skin prickling with an icy chill when the wretched beast utters the words that are so familiar to him.

_“Anything but this, father. Please. Don’t do this. Don’t—I don’t want to, please.”_

And Brendol, his own father, had chosen to ignore him. _Chosen._ More choice than Armitage or Kylo have ever had.

 _‘Go on, boy. Do not be so weak. Kill him and you can come home.’_ His father’s voice inside his mind.

 _‘H-home?’_ His own voice, questioning.

 _Is_ the village home? A collection of huts on a hillside where traitors dwell, none of whom did a _thing_ to stop a tiny, sickly baby from being resigned to a destiny of suffering for their _own_ benefit.

Kylo had been human. A boy, a _teen_ , he’d said, taken to the stake to be burned because of his _magic._ He wonders how long ago that would’ve been, and whether anyone would’ve protested to such an innocent life being taken for something out of their control. Likely not, Armitage thinks; no one protested when _he_ was forced through the streets to his death, marched their by his own father; the man he’ll be returning to once Kylo is dead.

Two boys, victims in a life where their fates are chosen for them, unfairly so, both thrown into the ocean by their own people and left to drown. But perhaps Armitage can swim.

Armitage lowers the sword, sighing in the style of a sob, his heart pounding wildly in his ears. Killing Kylo would make him no better than the disloyal cowards who tied _him_ to the stone slab and he wants nothing more to become a better man than his father.

And suddenly he sees fire in his mind, flashes of a life that does not belong to him; screaming, the name ‘ _Ben’_ being yelled over and over again, begging for a mother to come, enchanted chains around his small body as the bonfire around him is lit and he’s suddenly burning and begging and—Armitage sees his own face. He sees himself from Kylo’s eyes, sees the way Kylo’s gaze has lingered on him and feels how happy Kylo is that he’s no longer alone with his pain.

_Pain._

Hands shaking, Armitage stops himself before he strikes, dropping the sword to the ground with a clatter and falling to his knees.

“ _No_!” Kylo bolts awake with a roar, seemingly at the sound of the sword hitting the ground but Armitage is hyperventilating, tears streaming down his cheeks as he feels warm hands on his arms.

“Ren…”

“Hux! Hux, what’s wrong?”

“I-I saw your dream,” Armitage says, stuttering, still being able to feel the fire that Kylo felt all over his skin. “Your death. Ren, you were just a _boy._ They-they killed you.”

Kylo hushes him, his palms suddenly on both of Armitage’s cheeks and bringing his gaze up to be met, with the warmth now spreading through his head. It’s soft, _cooling_ almost, and when Armitage finally looks into Kylo’s eyes, he realises that the heat that radiates from Kylo’s hands isn’t because he’s a dragon. It’s because he’s a _witch,_ his passion coming forth in the form of a fever underneath his fingertips, magic being summoned as a result of his intense feeling. Because, now, Kylo is entirely human. The horns and the jewels that adorn his face, the wings and the claws and the tail are gone, replaced by the soft, pale skin of a lost boy who’s found a familiar friend in his darkest hour.

“Kiss me,” Armitage says. “Kylo Ren. Please.”

Kylo doesn’t hesitate. Their lips lock in a brilliant and deep kiss, and when Armitage opens his lips _this time,_ Kylo’s tongue pushes into his mouth and explores without restraint, making Armitage moan.

“Don’t be afraid,” Kylo whispers in a deep tone, holding his forehead against Armitage’s when their kiss breaks, stroking his fingers through his red hair. “I feel it too.”

“I’m not afraid,” Armitage shakes his head. “I’m—”

“You’re shaking. I can feel what you feel. _Fear._ ”

Armitage chuckles but nods. “Very well. I am afraid.”

“Of me _?”_

“No. Not anymore.”

“Then what?” Kylo strokes his cheek. “Tell me, Hux.”

“I…am afraid that I’ve become more like my father than I realise.” Armitage sits back, distancing himself from Kylo, recalling the times his father had come home and boasted about how good it had felt alighting witches on the stake. “Ren, my father—”

“I know who your father is, Armitage. _Brendol Hux._ He kills witches.”

Armitage’s stomach flips, suddenly fearing that the dragon he dreamt of slaying will reject him.

“I don’t want to go back to him. That bastard didn’t care whether I lived or died. I want to stay with you. If you’ll have me, Ren.”

“Yes,” Kylo smiles, grin going from cheek-to-cheek, crooked but completely enamouring that Armitage can’t help but smile in return. “ _Yes.”_

///……\\\\\

 _///_ _4 months later_ \\\\\

A fresh blanket of snow covers the ground outside of Kylo’s nest with more falling thinly from the sky, but Hux won’t go inside, not until he sees the silhouette of his dragon descending through the clouds.

Wrapped in the thickest furs that Kylo owns, Armitage shivers excitedly when he finally sees the grand shadow appear amongst the snowfall. In his true _dragon_ form, rather than his _half-half_ appearance that Armitage is used to seeing, Kylo Ren is truly menacing. His entire scaly body is black whilst the tips of his wings remain that shade of blood-red that Armitage has come to associate with his lover’s strength and his passion.

Kylo roars as he approaches the ledge of their cave, hovering on the descent and ensuring a soft landing, his warm breath from his two large nostrils making puffs of smoke in the cold air.

“I thought you were lost. I thought you were gone,” Armitage says, cupping Kylo’s snout and rubbing his cold hands against his cheek. The dragon nuzzles him as best as he can with the awkward size difference, but Armitage has learned that if Kylo shoves him over _accidentally,_ it’s a form of affection.  “You had me worried, you silly thing. Get inside quickly before you freeze.”

Kylo huffs, blowing a small line of smoke in Armitage’s face and growling in the style of a chuckle as he turns and stomps inside the cave, tail swishing proudly behind him. Armitage coughs and rubs his eyes before deciding to follow Kylo into their nest just in time to see the air ripple and sparkle around Kylo as he transforms into his half-dragon form, tail still wagging like an overexcited pup.

“Does my lover not have faith in my power?” Kylo says, turning around and raising his eyebrows.

“Of course I do. I just know what rivalry can be like and you’re _young_ in dragon years, aren’t you, _boy?_ ” Armitage pushes Kylo’s arm playfully as they enter the main chamber of their nest.

Now made into more of a den than a hoard, the cave has been organised _properly_ thanks to Armitage’s standards. The cold coins are piled up neatly instead of being strewn around the place, creating space for furs and pelts to be placed on the floor to save bare feet walking on cold cave floor. And with his father being a part-time carpenter, Kylo has indulged in a little interior design and made tables and chairs for them; more of a home than Brendol’s hut ever was for Armitage.

“My uncle and cousin had new information on the intruder,” Kylo says, pulling on a thick, red cape. “He calls himself ‘Snoke’ and says that he has been here since the dawn of time itself. A pure dragon-heart and not half-witch like my family. And he wants to take over everything.”

Armitage sees a flicker of fire in Kylo’s dark eyes, a defensive fire. Surely Kylo isn’t scared of this ‘ _Snoke’_? Armitage approaches the dragon nonetheless and plants a kiss on his cheek.

“You rule these lands, Ren. Some old creature couldn’t possibly tame you _or_ your family. He’s bluffing. ”

Kylo merely hums in acknowledgment of Armitage’s comment, eyes remaining fiery and glazed, a look that Armitage has never seen in the dragon’s eyes before. Even the tiny jewels on his face seem paler; not sparkling with the soft red that they usually do.

“Come,” Armitage takes Kylo’s hand, tone upbeat to disguise his worry. “Rest. You must be tired.”

Kylo lets himself be led over to their bed—still a nest of blankets and furs—in the corner of their den, a fire roaring nearby for extra warmth. Armitage is quick to lay beside Kylo and cover him with a warm pelt, the only sound to be heard is the crackling of the fire.

“Don’t think about anything else but rest,” Armitage says. “Rest is good.”

Kylo chuckles, “You’ve been reading those books I stole for you.”

“I have,” Armitage nods. “I wanted to be some sort of physician when I lived in the village and, now, I have the means to study medicines. Don’t argue with your physician, dragon. Be still.”

“Yes, master,” Kylo says, smiling closing his eyes. “Though, I’m sure a kiss would aid my healing.”

“You’re a bold one, Ren,” Armitage leans down and places a kiss on Kylo’s cheek. “That’s all you’re getting.”

“One more,” Kylo points to his lips, tapping it with his claw. “Just one.”

Armitage rolls his eyes. Kylo is a hard man— _dragon—_ to satisfy once he’s got his eyes set on something; this, Armitage learned months ago. He’s spoiled, but in the softest of ways.

So Armitage grants him his desire, pressing his lips down gently in the expectation that he’ll give only a quick kiss but Kylo grabs his cheeks and holds him steady, deepening the kiss as much as he likes. Armitage moans, laughing, his playfulness turning to arousal when Kylo rolls him over and straddles his hips, tail teasing the inside of his thigh.

“Brute,” Armitage mutters.

“ _Human,_ ” Kylo retorts quickly, spreading his wings wide and arching them up in an attempt to impress his mate. He even slides his tail to the base of Armitage’s cock and gives it a small stroke, and Armitage is lost.

“I need you, Ren.”

Armitage’s eyes fall half-lidded with _lust_ when Kylo backs off and shows off his erect cock to his mate. Thick and with a softly pointed tip, Kylo strokes himself with his dark hands, pulling at his shaft to make his engorged balls jiggle in front of Armitage’s face.

“It’s alright, I’m going to look after you,” Kylo says, sticking one of his clawed thumbs into Armitage’s mouth. “My mate. My virgin sacrifice.”

“Not a virgin,” Armitage winks, sucking at Kylo’s thumb, unfazed by the dragon’s intimidating demeanour.

“No, I know you’re not, Hux. I could tell by the first time you took my cock that I was not your first.”

Armitage licks his lips, eyeing the leaking tip of Kylo’s cock. His hands reach out and grasp hold of  Kylo’s hips to pull him towards him, making him shuffle forward awkwardly until the dragon’s cock is practicllay touching his lips. No man or woman that Armitage lay with in his village even compare to Kylo, sexually or otherwise. He’s gentle but rough; the way that Armitage likes it.

As soon as it’s within his reach, Armitage slides his mouth over the top of Kylo’s cock, taking in his whole length into his mouth in one large gulp, having had practice. Kylo lets out as a gasp and has to steady himself by placing his hand on one of Armitage’s shoulders to stop himself from buckling, though his wings spread out to cope with the sudden feeling. He looks down at Armitage, who’s pulling and pushing his mouth on and off of Kylo’s shaft, occasionally licking the precum from the tip with a quick flick of his tongue, delving back onto the thick shaft when Kylo moans. With a wet _pop!,_ Armitage pulls his mouth completely off Kylo’s cock and stares up at his mate, as though he’s waiting for Kylo to give him his orders.

He’d choose being _slayed_ by this dragon any day.

Kylo dismounts Armitage and he finds himself naturally spreading his legs for his dragon, desperate to be filled by him again. His entire pelvis tingles when Kylo summons his magic forth to make his own fingers and Armitage’s hole slick for a less-painful entrance.

As soon as Kylo is between his legs, Armitage feels two of Kylo’s fingers circling around the muscles of his ass teasingly before they completely push in, thrusting in and out of him in a scissoring manner, his tail teasingly touching his balls too. Armitage cries out, throwing his head back and attempting to open his legs further, feeling desperate to be filled with his alpha’s cock.

“You’re so wet,” Kylo says, pulling his fingers out slowly. “So ready, my little one.”

He runs both of his hands up Armitage’s legs, smoothing down the inside of his thighs and shuffles forward slightly, pressing the tip of his cock to Armitage’s entrance. As he pushes himself in, Armitage exhales in a shudder, accompanied by a low moan, stretched by the _magical_ thickness of Kylo’s cock.

“Keep going, _oh_ push it deeper,” Armitage moans, reaching to wrap his arms around Kylo’s neck, remembering the first time that they met, when Kylo lifted him from the stone altar and took him into the skies. Armitage had held onto Kylo’s neck with fear; fear of falling and fear of being taken by a dragon, but now, Armitage’s grip is soft and encouraging Kylo to bring their bodies closer together. _Passion,_ not fear.

 

As Kylo leans forward to kiss Armitage, he feels the dragon stretch his arm out and something is suddenly flying towards his open palm, Armitage only getting a glance before it’s presented to him.

It’s a crown, golden and bejewelled with green emeralds, and Kylo is lowering it onto Armitage’s head.

“Mine,” Kylo says, allowing his dragon-like features to fade until he’s human. “You’re my king. Never let go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Armitage says, pushing the crown further down onto his brow, wanting to _feel_ it. “You’ve given me everything I didn’t know I wanted, and more, Ren. How could I let go of someone I need?”

The crown on his head begins to slip down over his forehead, but Armitage lifts it back into place before grabbing both of Kylo’s cheeks and pushing their lips together roughly in an open-mouthed kiss, Armitage moaning loudly into Kylo’s mouth as his lover continues to fuck him hard. His clawed fingers carefully wrap around Armitage’s cock and begin jerking him off, synchronising his thrusting with his hand movements. Armitage moans incredibly loudly and spurs Kylo’s thrusting on more, so much so that Armitage feels Kylo’s thick knot beginning to grow. Both minds are completely ablaze with emotion.

“Come inside me, Kylo. I need you to _fill_ me,” Armitage says desperately, his chest heaving for air.

“Yes, dragon-slayer,” Kylo grins.

Kylo increases his pace as much as he can until his dragon-features reappear, obviously unable to control his magic whilst so overwhelmed. His knot swells and Armitage cries out as he comes, feeling stretched and feeling Kylo’s hot seed spill so very deep inside him that he wonders whether his belly will bloat.

Kylo runs his hands along the smooth inside of Armitage’s trembling thighs, leaning down to lie on Armitage’s chest, trailing kisses across his skin all the way up to his lips, his wings and tail slack from overexertion. They kiss until Kylo feels his knot shrink and he’s able to pull out, sending another shiver across Armitage’s body as his cock pulls past the tense ring of muscle. They lay beside each other on the pile of fur, sweating and out of breath, filling each other’s senses.

“Are you hungry?” Kylo asks, breaking the silence a few moments later. “I can make a trip to the village and collect something for you.”

“Not right now,” Armitage sighs. “Just stay, for now.”

For the entirety of his life, Armitage was told that he’d be of great service to the village one day, and if someone had told him that it would mean becoming the mate of the dragon named Kylo Ren, he would’ve fled before his fate befell him.

Now, as he doses in Kylo’s warm arms whilst the _beast_ plants soft kisses atop his head, Armitage wouldn’t change his fate for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sure where this idea came from. I was reading back over some of my old Marvel fics and came across the virgin sacrifice trope and thought it'd be fun to write some kylux! This is the product.
> 
> I like the idea of witches becoming dragons when they're burnt alive and killed, as like a 'surprise, bitch' sorta thing, and Ben Solo would DEFINITELY have been thought of to be a witch. And Armitage realising that the beast that he wants to kill is just an innocent boy like him? A trope I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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